lovely orbiting
by timetrees
Summary: Bart was tired. It wasn't late, and he hadn't been doing much. He'd just gotten back from a mission, but his role hadn't been critical in the least. Bart knew it was bad to wish for action after the near-apocalypse, after Wally's death, but he wanted to feel alive. ––––Snapshots from Bart Allen and Tim Drake's growing relationship.
1. Chapter 1

Bart was tired.

It wasn't late, and he hadn't been doing much. He'd just gotten back from a mission, but his role hadn't been critical in the least. Bart knew it was bad to wish for action after the near-apocalypse, after Wally's death, but he wanted to feel alive.

He felt dead, and maybe that was for the best.

The rest of his squad were heading home, or to the showers, but Bart had no home. He didn't feel comfortable with the Garricks. Barry had his own life and his twins would be due in a few months, and Bart wasn't selfish enough to stay with them. So he lived in the Watchtower, in the Team's section of the place.

His room was next to Beast Boy's, which was often annoying. Bart wasn't in the mood for nineties sitcoms. He wasn't in the mood for much at all, lately.

Someone was knocking at his door.

Bart sighed and tried to muster up the energy to open the door and interact with people. He was tired. He hated being tired. Finally, he was able to open the door.

Robin, dressed with slightly more stylish sunglasses than Bart had last seen him in, didn't seem too perturbed by Bart's lack of emotion. Bart knew this wasn't how he usually acted, or at least it wasn't how he usually acted in _this_ time. Back in the future, maybe he'd been more this way. He didn't know. He didn't like to think of that time.

"Hey," Robin said. "You mind if I hide out in here?"

Bart felt a little interest now — why did Robin have to hide out anywhere? He stepped aside and let Robin in his room.

"Thanks," Robin muttered, settling himself on the floor next to Bart's bed.

"You can sit up here, if you want," Bart said. He was trying so hard to be normal, to have energy, but Robin was a detective anyway — he would know even if Bart succeeded.

Robin climbed up onto his bed and seemed to watch Bart for a while.

Bart didn't look at him. "Why're you hiding, Robin?"

Robin said, "you can call me Tim right now. We're just in your room, and even if Gar hears, he already knows my name."

"Oh," Bart said. "Right. Sorry about that."

Tim shrugged. "It doesn't really matter that much," he said. "He was bound to find out at some point."

"Yeah…"

"Anyway," Tim said quickly. "I'm not really hiding. I just don't really want to talk to Nightwing right now. He's— he's great and everything, you know, but every time I hang out with him I feel weird. Like, he thinks of me as a little kid and I don't think he always trusts me to take care of myself."

Bart exhaled in a way that was somehow bitter. "I get that," he said.

Being the successor to a dead person wasn't a usually lovely thing.

"Yeah," Tim said, breathily, and sighed in a long way. "And I, I don't know, almost idolize him or whatever? Not really. I really respect him, and I… I don't know. I think way too much when I'm hanging out with him, about what I'm saying and what I'm doing. And I feel like shit when I embarrass myself."

Bart wasn't sure if he related to that part, so he didn't comment. "And, what, I'm more bearable than Gar?" he asked.

Tim gave him an odd look. "Or maybe I wanted to get to know you better."

Bart, for whatever reason, hadn't considered that.

"Are you alright, though?" Tim asked. "You seem off. Not that you're, um, worse this way or anything—"

"No, I know," Bart interrupted. "I've been feeling weird lately. Less energy."

"Hm," TIm said. "The, uh, the depression." He said the word 'depression' weirdly, like an inside joke Bart didn't quite get.

Bart curled up into himself. "Maybe," he said. "I used to be more like this… back, um, back where I'm from. When I'm from. I kind of thought it would end without all the… apocalypse stuff. But it didn't."

Tim studied him, not looking into his eyes but at the spot between his collarbones. Bart felt out of place.

"Are heroes meant to be depressed?" Bart asked.

"Maybe not meant to be, but most of us are, at least to some degree and at some point." Tim laced his fingers together in a strange way. "It comes with the job. We're around so much death and pain and everything… it sinks in."

"Oh," Bart said, quietly. "Does anyone on the team…"

"I have depression," Tim said. "If that's what you're asking. I'm also autistic. You're not, like, weird for feeling like shit. I don't want to say everyone does because that's not always true and it's annoying to hear anyway, but… don't feel, or I mean, you shouldn't feel, um, bad because you're feeling bad. Because we understand. We even have a team therapist."

"Black Canary, right?" Bart said. He poked Tim's cheek, for reasons unknown to both of them. Tim put his eyebrows together in a startled sort of way.

"Yes," Tim said. "I saw her once or twice after my mom died. I think the League was meaning to have everyone do a session with her after Wally died and the whole Reach thing ended, but I guess it didn't end up happening."

"She saw Jaime," Bart said. "Blue."

"Yeah…" Tim rubbed his eye. "Anyway. If you want me to mention seeing you to her, I can. If you want."

Bart shrugged. He didn't much feel like talking anymore. "Thank you," he said, and leaned onto the wall of his bed.

They were both quiet for a while, just sitting on the bed in silence. Bart hoped he would have energy again sometime soon. (Though he did wonder if he annoyed others less this way. Would people want to be around him more if he didn't do _all that_?)

Tim had his eyes closed when he spoke again. His eyelashes were long. "How do you know my secret ID," he said, not quite as a question.

"Uh," Bart said. "I'm from the future."

Tim opened his eyes once, seemed to decide that it was too bright, and closed them again. "Yeah, but it was the apocalypse or whatever. You didn't really have history class, right?"

Oh, right.

Bart had forgotten how many lies he'd told in his months on Earth. Too many to count, probably. About the future, about his teammates, about Barry. There was so much now that he had no clue how to take it back.

"There were," he started. "Others. Legacies of heroes and and stuff. The, uh, Neutron guy, whatever, he helped with the time machine and stuff. Some other people told me stuff about the past, who everyone was, all that. Most of the Justice League now was dead or incapacitated by then, but some of them had kids and stuff, and I worked with them."

"That makes sense," Tim said. "Oh. Yeah. I guess I should say, maybe, sorry? That all that happened in your timeline."

"I don't really get the 'sorry' thing," Bart said. "Shouldn't you say sorry when something is your fault? It's not your fault."

Tim shrugged and slid down the bed a bit. "I don't know any other words to use," he said. "I'm bad with them."

It was silent again for a long time after that. Finally, Bart said:

"We should do this again sometime."

"Do what?"

"Talk. Actual talking. I feel like I never talk to anyone. I know I talk all the time, but it doesn't register."

Tim paused. "I'm sick of small talk," he said, possibly quoted. "Talk to me about what really matters in the world. Like depression and bad end futures."

Bart laughed, but he wasn't sure what he was laughing at. "What is that?" he asked. "That's from something."

Tim snickered a little. "Meme."

Bart nodded seriously. "Meme."

After a few more moments of silence, he said, "but really. We should do this again."

"...yeah."


	2. Chapter 2

It was cold and it was dark, and Robin was alone.

He pushed himself up. When his hand touched the floor, everything shifted. He was walking now, through something thick and black. It was hard to make a step, but every time he did, white lines rippled from where he stood. He wasn't going anywhere in particular, just forward. There was nowhere to turn and nothing in sight.

He walked for a long time, or maybe not long at all. Finally, he stopped. There was a creature ahead of him, a vaguely feminine shape of black goo. He knelt next to it, tried to find a face. There was none, until he reached a hand over to touch it. The creature made a wheezing noise as it morphed.

Robin wanted to move backwards, but he was stuck in place. A cold hand was wrapped around his ankle, and he fell down into a sitting position.

The creature said, "you didn't go."

Robin knew the voice, but he couldn't understand it.

"You didn't go to my funeral…" the creature sighed. "Did you?"

Tim didn't know what to say. He'd been there, right? He'd missed a lot of things, but not that. He wasn't… "I did," he mumbled. "I was there."

Something changed. The creature was holding a jug of some kind of liquid. Tim tried to stop her, but he was too late.

She drank, and melted away, and Tim woke up.

It was a team bonding exercise, or something, but really it had been Tim and Cassie's scheme to organize a 'Freshmen' sleepover without having to go to one of their houses. Bart and Gar lived in the Watchtower, Jaime didn't think his parents would appreciate having so many people over, Cassie was afraid of her mother meeting her boyfriend, and Tim, of course, wasn't about to reveal he and his family's identity to anyone who didn't need to know.

"Robin?" Someone was whispering. Tim didn't open his eyes. "Robin. Tim."

That got his attention; Tim blinked and saw Bart watching him intently. "…wha?"

Bart huffed a little in a laughing way. He seemed to be in a better mood than he had been for a while. He said, "you were muttering. I wasn't sure if you were asleep and having a nightmare or just being weird like Jaime is."

Jaime, who was awake and on his phone, glanced over. " _Bart_ ," he said.

Bart made a face at him. "I'm just sayin', man. You talk to yourself a lot."

Jaime went back to his phone, proving Bart's point by muttering to himself, and Tim said, "what was I saying?"

Bart leaned onto his elbows. "I dunno," he said. "You okay, though?"

Tim shrugged. "I guess," he said. "I don't remember what I was dreaming. It was probably nothing, though." It was a lie.

Bart gave up on the position he was in and pulled Tim's blanket over himself until it covered his back and shoulders like a cape. Tim didn't protest. "You think Cassie will be mad if I wake her up?" Bart asked.

Tim frowned. "How should I know?"

"Well, you're dating her, aren't you?"

Being totally honest, Tim did often forget he and Wonder Girl were dating now. It had been over two months since they'd gotten together, and it didn't seem like much had really changed between them. Tim wasn't sure if he was upset about that or not. They'd only kissed once since she'd first kissed him that day, and though they held hands often, Tim got the feeling his girlfriend was a little uncomfortable in this new relationship.

Dick asked about her sometimes, and Tim always gave him embarrassed, shy responses, things like _oh, we're fine, thanks_ , or _she's— we're okay, yeah, it's not a big thing_ and the like. He knew Dick had been in a few relationships in the past, so maybe he would be able to help, but he wasn't sure if Cassie would appreciate Tim venting about their relationship to her former team leader.

"She'll probably be fine with it," Tim said. "But she might be grumpy if you— oh, great."

Bart, apparently not realizing Tim hadn't finished speaking, speed-crawled over to Cassie in her sleeping bag and shook her so fast _she_ might've been vibrating instead of him.

"Holy SHIT, BART!" Cassie said as she struggled out of her sleeping bag. " _Why?_ "

Bart blinked. "Sorry."

A green cat crawled out of Cassie's sleeping bag. It blinked up in Tim and Bart's direction.

"That's Gar, right?" Bart said. "Like, we didn't just leave him somewhere and find another green animal guy? Because I had a dream about that, once, and Miss Martian was pissed."

The cat transformed into someone who looked like a strange mix between a monkey and a boy. "Hell yeah she would be," Gar said. Recently he'd started experimenting with swearing, but he didn't dare do it while M'gann was around. She still often saw him as a little boy and though he liked the security of that, he _was_ now a teenager.

"Use some big kid swears, Gar," Bart said.

Jaime said, "aren't you two the same age?"

Bart replied, "I never said we weren't!"

Tim groaned as he laughed and slid fully onto the ground. His friends were ridiculous and he loved them. He only really knew love from afar — his parents had been largely absent, gone for months at a time, and though they had loved him, they hadn't always expressed it in 'normal' ways. Bruce was similar. So he loved from a distance, too, watching, subtly showing his affection.

He hoped they knew he loved them, but he couldn't go out and say it. It wasn't natural for him in the way it was for others.

"Rob?" Gar nudged Tim. "You've been scary quiet. Like, use a face, man."

Tim blinked and furrowed his eyebrows. "Use a face?"

In response, Gar made a wild face that didn't really match any emotion Tim knew of. And he'd seen a _lot_ of therapy 'name-your-feeling' charts. "Like that."

"You mean expressions?" Jaime asked. "Also. That was terrifying, _hermano_."

"You just don't understand the nuances of expressionalism," Gar argued. Tim wondered if he was quoting something, because Gar usually didn't bother with words like 'nuances'. "Hey, Robin, are you and Cassie still dating?"

Tim blinked. "Yes," he said, glancing at Cassie. "Right?" he asked her.

"Yeah," Cassie said. "Totally. Why?"

Gar shrugged. "No reason. Hey, I heard Aqualad talking about recruiting new people to the team. Do you think he'll let me come along and do it with him?"

"Who's he recruiting?" Tim asked, as he always felt a need to be 'In The Know.'

"Some duo in Jump City," Garfield responded. "I only heard some of it. I _think_ aliens."

"Oh, I always like aliens," Cassie said, a bit too dreamily to be casual. Tim wondered if she was thinking about her childhood crush on Superman, or maybe a lesser known alien that she hadn't told him about.

The conversation continued until the group was too focused on the unimportant things they were talking about to notice Bart grabbing Tim and half dragging him out of the room. Tim didn't protest because he knew it was pointless; Bart more often than not got what he wanted. He was unrelentless.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Bart asked. Bart, Tim found, had a strange ability to see through people's masks. It was probably because he was so experienced with his own. "I did hear some of what you were saying. Something about a funeral."

Tim sat down against the wall. He could almost hear the others yelling from the room they'd exited. "A funeral," he said. He remembered that, but he hadn't said it in his dream. _She_ had.

"Are you thinking about Wally or something?" Bart asked. Tim almost found himself surprised that he hadn't gotten it right, but of course Bart had no idea about most of Tim's life. Just the stuff he'd been told from other future people.

"No…" Tim said. He felt a little like he was drifting, in and out of this plane. "I was… dreaming about my mom. She's dead, she died probably… over a year ago. June last year."

"Oh." Bart chewed on his lip. "I'm sorry. Her funeral must have been a while ago, right?"

"It was." Tim cracked his knuckles one by one. "I don't know why I was dreaming about her. She said I didn't go to her funeral, but I did. I went to it. Some crime guy called Cluemaster was causing trouble and I didn't do anything because I was going to her funeral."

Bart was quiet for a while. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Aren't you the one who doesn't get why people say sorry for things that aren't your fault?" Tim asked.

Bart smiled just a little. "Yeah," he said. "I'm _learning_." He emphasized the word, like he was mocking someone or maybe just being a little sardonic.

"Good job," Tim said, a little faintly. "Gold star sticker for you."

Bart nodded, and stood up, and they both went back to the others. Nobody seemed to have noticed their disappearance, except for Jaime, who said something to Bart that Tim couldn't hear. Tim was more than a little unsettled but more than that, comforted. His mother was dead and his father was in a coma, but at least he had friends that were alive and awake.

That was enough, wasn't it?


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn't quite right that there were twenty-seven alien soldiers outside waiting for them.

Bart was pretty sure he hadn't done anything wrong. The Justice League had wanted to make amends with the planets aligned with Rimbor, the planet they had ravaged during those sixteen hours, so they'd sent a few teams of not-sidekicks to bring about peace offerings and the like. (Bart found himself saying 'and the like' a lot. It was probably because he and Tim had been texting a lot. Right now the group chat name was 'the rumor come out: does superboy is emo?'.)

Bart was on Beta team, which was pretty cool. On his team was Robin (who was acting as the squad leader), Miss Martian (their resident alien translator), Static (who was cool but still pretty new), and Tigress (the best). Bart was pretty sure Kaldur had put Miss Martian and Tigress on the squad to temper the younger members.

What was _not_ cool was hiding from almost thirty aliens who wanted him dead.

" _Static, can you overcharge the system over there_?" Miss Martian asked through the psychic link.

" _Uh, yeah, I think,_ " Static responded. He quickly ducked out of the room they were in — it was more of a stadium than a room, really — and shot electricity at a big cube of tech that reminded Bart of a computer, the kind you had to link to a monitor. _So_ retro.

Almost immediately, the aliens' guns started malfunctioning and shooting off sparks. Bart guessed they were connected to the tech somehow, powered by it. It seemed like a pretty dumb idea to Bart, but maybe that was just how their tech worked. He hadn't managed to build a time machine that could go more than once, so he probably couldn't judge.

"We come in peace!" Miss Martian shouted. It was a pretty straightforward line, but the aliens stepped back in what seemed like confusion.

"You are a Martian," one alien, tall and red like a brick, said. It sounded strange and accented, which Bart didn't really understand, because the alien's words were being translated in his head as they spoke. "An ally of Konros."

Bart guessed Konros was the name of the planet. He hadn't paid that much attention on the debriefing. Vibrating with excitement, he started to surge forward, before being stopped by Robin's arm.

" _Hey_!" Bart whispered. Robin gave him a hard look.

"Let her speak with them," he said back, just as quietly. "They might trust her. _We_ are still being seen as threats."

Bart settled down, eyes narrowed in annoyance. When he was feeling awful, he sent on missions and talked to and treated like a useful member of the team, mostly. When he actually had enough energy to _want_ to do that stuff, he wasn't needed. Typical.

"Don't give me that look," Robin muttered. "If they decide to attack, we fight back. But this is a peace mission; remember that we don't _want_ to fight the Konrosans."

"That's rehearsed, right?"

Robin squirmed a little. "I talk to myself in the mirror a lot," he muttered. "Aqualad has been assigning me as leader a lot and Nightwing's trying to teach me how to actually… do that and stuff."

Miss Martian was still talking to the aliens. Bart didn't bother listening. "Are you cool with that?" he asked, maybe just to avoid a conversation about Bart.

Robin ran a hand through his hair, which he hadn't seemed to cut in a while. "Yeah," he said. "I'm gonna need it, yknow, being. Robin and all. There's this girl, she's been trying to be a vigilante in Gotham. Batman doesn't really approve, so I've been trying to shoot her down, but it isn't working."

"Maybe she should just be a superhero, then," Bart said. "What if Batman had told you that you couldn't be a hero and you need to stop?"

"Back then?" Robin asked. "I wouldn't have listened. He needed a Robin."

"And now?"

"Now…" Robin frowned. "I don't know. It's his choice, you know, to keep me as Robin or not, but… maybe he doesn't _need_ me right now, but the world always needs more heroes. I don't think I'd want to stop."

"Ta-da." Bart smiled. "So tell Batman to fuck off and let the girl tag along in the hero stuff. Easy, right?"

"Telling Batman to fuck off is…" Robin shook his head. "That's not going to happen. And defying him definitely isn't _easy_."

"Kinda kidding," Bart said. "And… look at that."

Miss Martian was waving them over. Static and Tigress were already walking toward the aliens, Static with his arms up, Tigress more confidently. Bart grabbed Robin and sped forward.

One of the aliens, probably the leader of the group, surveyed them carefully. "Miss Martian tells us you are here in peace, to discuss what happened those years ago. Come in, but leave your weapons."

The aliens led them to a large castle-like building. The great door slid open to let them in, and inside everyone's weapons were taken and stored. Almost all of the weapons came from Robin and Tigress, who Bart noticed were both looking slightly awkward after being unarmed.

The room they entered next seemed to be a conference room, with a long oval table and enough chairs circling it to hold Beta squad and a dozen of the aliens. Following Miss Martian and Robin's example, Bart sat down in one of the chairs, right next to Static and across from the leader alien.

"Thank you for letting us talk with you," Robin said. "Since you've already established a, um, volley? With Miss… Martian, then you two can lead the conversation." He muttered the last bit, receding into his chair a little in embarrassment.

Miss Martian laughed quietly. "Thank you, Robin. A'Mant, I'm not sure if you saw the trial that the Justice League was a part of. The League showed evidence that they were being mind controlled. I could show you, if you want."

The leader alien, A'Mant, nodded, or at least did the alien equivalent of a nod. "We did see, but we have been skeptic," he admitted. "The Tribune has not been widely regarded as a _fair_ judge."

"We know, believe us," Tigress muttered. She spoke up: "I understand why your planet is angry at the Justice League, but know that without circumstances like what happened five years ago, that would never have happened. The League fights for peace and justice, not for chaos."

"Yeah, apparently we didn't even know what happened during those sixteen hours," Static said. Then he looked sheepish: "I'm new."

A'Mant looked amused. "So they sent a team of their young to explain what happened? Why to us?"

"We're talking with planets that are allied with Rimbor," Miss Martian explained. "A few of them have expressed, um… ill intent toward the Justice League and Earth, so we decided to take matters into our own hands and advocate for peace."

Miss Martian, Bart reflected, was very good at saying the right things and deflecting the right questions away. She wasn't quite a leader, but something a little more dishonest. Bart thought it might have been something that came with age, with years of fighting for the right thing.

Eventually you get jaded.

They continued to talk, Miss Martian (who was by far the favorite of the aliens) taking the lead and Robin joining in when needed, notably when they showed the Konrosans the evidence they had for the League being set up and mind controlled. Bart stayed mostly quiet, which he knew Jaime would tease him about later. He knew that sometimes (most of the time, Tim would say, apologetically) he said things that… escalated matters.

His 'filter' was a little skewed.

Finally, after what _seemed_ like hours of discussion, they were done. The ride back to Earth was annoyingly quiet for most of the duration, save for when Gar accidentally called them and proceeded to screech as a bird into the mic for two minutes before he realized it was on.

Later, a little into the night, Tim texted Bart:

TIM D.: I'm training spoiler but batman doesn't know yet

TIM D.: He will tho

BART A.: spoiler?

BART A.: like MY kind of spoiler?

TIM D.: Hah, no

TIM D.: The vigilante girl i was talking about

TIM D.: She's called Spoiler

TIM D.: Or the Spoiler? Not sure

BART A.: does not seem like a word anymore

TIM D.: It's a weird word

BART A.: yeah

TIM D.: Anyway i think there's a drug deal going on down there so i gtg

BART A.: okay txt me l8er im going 2 sleep

TIM D.: Are you a skater now?

TIM D.: Goodnight, Bart.

BART A.: night

BART A.: (and i know you own a skateboard so shut up)


	4. Chapter 4

BART A.: hey

TIM D.: What's up

BART A.: idk

BART A.: did you have a happy childhood

TIM D.: ?

BART A.: i was talking to gar and some of the others people on the team and it seems like almost no one had like. a good childhood

BART A.: is that a requirement for superheroism? i mean i fit in there but jeez

TIM D.: I don't think it's a requirement, more like

TIM D.: It happens a lot because that's the driving force behind us being heroes?

TIM D.: Like. Batman and Nightwing are both orphans and that i guess made them want to fight crime

BART A.: yeah, i knew about that

TIM D.: Well you are from the future and all

TIM D.: That's not really why you're curious, right?

BART A.: idk thinking abt the apocalypse

TIM D.: Do you know where i live

BART A.: ya

TIM D.: Want 2 come over

BART A.: ya

TIM D.: You only gonna say ya from now on

BART A.: ya

TIM D.: ya

BART A.: ya

* * *

Tim was half-asleep when he heard the window opening.

It was Bart, obviously. No robber or criminal would have been able to break into Wayne Manor, but speedsters were another story. Bruce had given up on security measures against them after years of Dick and Wally's friendship. That's what Dick had told Tim, anyway.

Dick didn't share his stories about him and Wally much anymore.

Tim lived at Wayne Manor maybe temporarily, maybe permanently. Bruce was, as it stood, his legal guardian. His father had recently – very recently – awoken from his coma, but he was still too weak to leave the hospital, and it would be a while before Tim could live with him again.

If Tim was being completely honest, he wasn't sure if he _wanted_ to live with his dad again. He loved him, sure, but… he'd gotten used to living with Bruce, being available at the drop of a hat.

Things were going to change a lot, and he wasn't sure how to handle it. Before his mother had died and his dad had gone comatose, they'd been gone, on and off, for most of his career as Robin. They'd had no clue about Robin – no clue about anything in his life, really.

Well. Maybe that would change.

Tim was moving to open the window when Bart vibrated himself through it, landing neatly on the floor. Bart quickly pushed himself up.

"That was pretty cool, right?" he asked. "Barry says Wally couldn't do that till he was nineteen."

Bart was smiling, but Bart smiling didn't always mean he was in a good mood. Tim wasn't exactly the best in social situations, and their starting conversation over text hadn't exactly been the cheeriest thing, so he said:

"How are you?"

Bart sat cross-legged on the floor and glanced up at Tim, eyes cinched up a little. "Are you always so formal?"

Tim blinked. "I… wasn't aware I was?" he said, cringing as he did so because of course _that_ sentence sounded weird too.

Bart shrugged. "Well, whatever. I'm fine, honestly. Like, I'm not _great,_ but hey, who is, right? Anyway. I was texting you cuz I got to thinking 'bout how everyone came to be a superhero and like… it seems like there's almost always tragedy involved."

"I know of a few people who became heroes because of other things," Tim said, thinking back. "But there's definitely not as many."

"Hmmm," Bart said, falling onto his back. "Can I go in your bed."

Without waiting for an answer – Tim doubted it was really a question – he sped toward Tim's bed and rolled onto it. "Thanks."

"Um. No problem." Tim looked around a bit and joined Bart on the bed. "So you realized everyone has had weird tragic pasts and you wanted to know mine?"

"Well, I already know Jaime's." Bart shrugged. "Y'know, skateboarded around, bug got attached to his spine. Not that complicated. The stuff after – _that's_ complicated. But the origin story, not really. So what's yours?"

Tim breathed out in something like a laugh. "I don't think it'll be that interesting," he warned. "My childhood was pretty much fine. My parents were hardly ever home, but when they were, they were nice to me. When they weren't, my parents had housesitters and stuff, so I usually wasn't alone."

"Hm," Bart said, again. "Where were they?"

"What?"

"You said your parents weren't home. Where'd they go?"

"Oh." Tim waited a moment to answer. "Business trips, I guess. They went to a lot of places around the world. They didn't really talk about their work much. Well, they didn't talk that much to me in general…"

"And you became Robin because Jason Todd died," Bart said. "And Batman was taking it badly."

"Yeah…" Tim nodded. Though it had happened over a year and a half ago, the situation in which he became Robin was still fresh in his mind, as if it had only been mere days. "I'd known Bruce was Batman for years by then. It was, um, actually relatively easy to find out."

"Well, we can sure tell you were taught by the world's greatest detective." Bart smiled. "Even though that happened before you were."

"Yeah." Tim turned his Bat-Tablet on and accessed his recordings of the night before. "You were asking about the new vigilante in Gotham, earlier. We were together last night, I mean, there was a criminal who escaped prison, so…"

"What's her name?" Bart asked. "The vigilante, not the criminal."

"Stephanie," Tim said. "She's… definitely something. Inexperienced, but I think she could do really well. She'd do better if Batman would train her, but it looks like that won't be happening anytime soon."

"Did you catch the crim?" Bart asked, shortening the word _criminal._ Tim thought it was cute.

"No," Tim said. "Steph thinks he's hiding out in one of the abandoned buildings he used to use. Um, the criminal, Cluemaster, he's her dad, so." Tim nodded, twisting his mouth awkwardly.

"That's why she became a hero," Bart guessed. "Good motive."

Tim nodded. He was a little tired, but he liked talking to Bart. Soon the right video file was open, the shots from one camera embedded in his glove and one in his mask.

Steph was standing with her hand against a man's throat, pushing him into a wall. "Where's Cluemaster?" she said, not quite with Batman's growl but with an angry voice of her own.

"Nice," Bart commented. The criminal in the video, however, was less impressed.

"Nice try, kid," the criminal said. "You aren't Batman."

Tim remembered wanting to cut in, but he had to wait — he remembered his first experiences with interrogation, and it was best learned with experience. He'd learned that his first time: no matter how much he studied the techniques, the expressions, _experience_ meant more.

Spoiler, true to her stubbornness, pulled her mask up and spit in the man's face. Tim wasn't sure how necessary that was, really, but the disgust factor seemed to help. The man tried to reel back, but failed to, as he was still against the wall.

"Want me to break your teeth?" Steph asked. Tim was pretty sure that wasn't a phrase, but the man seemed alarmed. "Or are you going to tell me?"

"Listen, I don't know where he is!" The man said, distressed. "I just know some of what he's gonna do. I'll tell you, but you gotta let me go."

"How 'bout this," Steph started, clearly not trusting him. "I keep you here, you tell me, and then I let you go, but only if you stay out of my way after."

The criminal groaned. "Fine, whatever. He's heading on down to Whencher Hall to steal…"

Tim paused the video. "That's her," he said.

"I _like_ her." Bart zoomed in on the ⅓ view of her face. "Ski mask, huh?"

"She had to improvise."

"Yeah…" Bart quieted down again, turning his head to study Tim. It was strange how still Bart could become. Sometimes he was just like what speedsters were generally thought to be, rash and hyperactive, but sometimes he was quiet, too, thoughtful.

"Did you and Cass break up?" Bart asked him.

Tim blinked. He hadn't been expecting that, but Cassie was Bart's friend too. "Yeah," he said. "She, uh, wants to figure some things out, or something."

In actuality, Cassie had admitted to him that she was probably not straight, and she needed to have some time to herself to fully understand her sexuality. Tim got it, and it wasn't like they'd been dating very seriously anyway. He wasn't really upset.

Bart said, "she's gay, right?"

"I don't," Tim started, a little surprised. "I'm not sure if I should answer that."

Bart shrugged. "Tell her I'm gay and she should talk to me," he said.

"Oh."

Bart closed his eyes and put his head to the side, close to Tim's shoulder. "Can I sleep over here?"

Tim was tired, too. "Sure. Bruce probably won't mind."

Bart was already half-asleep, too dreamlike to really hear. Tim pulled his sheets (they were Batman themed) up at him and closed his eyes, too. Maybe he would actually sleep for once, maybe not. It didn't matter, not really.

Late in the night, Tim was still awake, but only technically. The only thing he was failing to do was lose consciousness.

Bart opened one eye. Though it was dark in his room, Bart's face had become pressed against Tim's jaw in his sleep, and when his gaze flitted upward Tim could see the bright green.

"Hi," Bart mumbled.

"Hi," Tim whispered.

Bart said, very quietly and very sleepily, "you're cute."

Tim, just as quiet and more than sleepy, responded. "Am I?"

"Yeah."

"Thank you."

"Hmm…" Bart closed his eyes again for a second, then opened them. "Thank you," he started, almost embarrassed, "for. You've been really nice to me. And helpful."

"I didn't really do anything…" Tim said.

Bart shook his head slightly against Tim's face. "No, you've helped me," he said. "Like, I felt really… awful, a few months ago, but you talked to me and you said that I could talk to Dinah and you and stuff? I think it's helped. Like, not that much, because I'm fucked up, but it still did."

"Oh." Tim blinked. "You're welcome, then. I'm glad that's helped a little."

"I wanted to, like, do something for you, but I don't think I really have anything to offer," Bart admitted. Tim only barely noticed the flutter of his eyelashes against his skin. "You're pretty put together."

"I don't know if I am," Tim sighed. "I think I just ignore things. It'll probably blow up in my face someday, but I'll probably just ignore that too."

Bart nodded his head a little. "At least we're all weird and messed up," he said.

Tim was quiet for a while. Everything he did, everything he said — it was all thought through, cautioned, maybe too much. He didn't initiate most things. Black Canary said to act, not react, but Tim only took that advice in battle.

Tim said, "you're cute, too."

He could feel Bart smile, and place a hand on the other side of Tim's face. They didn't kiss, just laid there, faces pressed together, so close Tim could feel both of their hearts beating.

They slept.

* * *

 **GOTHAM CITY**

 **OCTOBER 31, 11:03 EDT**

"So you're moving back into your house soon?" Bart asked. "Can I still visit?"

"Of course," Tim answered. They were sitting on a roof of some Wayne-owned building, their legs hung over the side. Tim had been on rooftops for years, even before he became Robin, but the excitement was still evident. "I'll say I met you through Bruce and Dick. I did, kind of."

"You know Dick and Dick knew Wally and Wally was my first cousin once removed," Bart said. "Just say that."

"I'll, uh, edit that a bit," Tim said. "Barry's kids aren't even two months old, he can't exactly have a grandson."

Bart shrugged. "Maybe I'm Barry's cousin," he said. "I have no clue what's on my official paperwork. Or if I have official paperwork."

"I can look around," Tim offered. "Are you not being homeschooled like Gar?"

"Yeah, but I just speed through the work, so." Bart shrugged. "Is your dad cool? You don't talk about him a lot."

"I guess I don't really know him very well," Tim said. "Maybe I'll know him more now that's he's gonna be. In a wheelchair. So he won't be able to leave on trips for most the rest of my life."

Bart blinked. "You got some issues there, I think, pal," he said.

"Pal?" Tim repeated, teasingly.

"My good pal friend," Bart confirmed, nodding. "Hey, instead– instead of being my boyfriend you could be my palfriend."

Tim laughed through his exhale. "Sounds good, but people might think my gender is pal instead of boy."

"Pal can be any gender," Bart said. "Boy, girl, whatever, we're all pals here."

They continued the conversation lightly, changing into similarly ridiculous topics as time went on. It was nice, Tim reflected, to not be alone. Batman seemed to like being alone and he often encouraged Tim's solitude, but being with others, not just in missions but as friends (or more)… that was nice.

The future, be it something like Bart's or just the impending arrival of Jack Drake's return, could wait.


End file.
